“Forgive me.” Another grin made his eyes twinkle as he looked at her. “It is only that I have a particular notion as regards Miss Whitford.”
Rather than smile back at him, a lump formed in her throat, and she looked away, a little uncertain as to what it was that he was considering. Was it that he had plans to tie himself to Miss Whitford? She could not blame him for it, for, if that was his intention, then she was sure that Miss Whitford would make an excellent wife.
“You will not ask me what I mean?” Lord Winterbrook chuckled. “I see that you are quite determined to remain silent and behave as properly as you ought. Therefore, since you will not ask, I will tell you if you wish.”
“Is it that you intend to find a suitable match for Miss Whitford?” Surprised that her voice was a little shrill, she coughed quietly. “Or do you plan to wed her yourself?”
It was a bold question, but she did not regret speaking it. The relief which came when Lord Winterbrook looked at her and then laughed made her smile brightly. Clearly, her thoughts had been quite mistaken.
“No, indeed, I have no intention of marrying her myself.” Lord Winterbrook reached across and patted her hand on his arm. “I have no intention of beingthatgenerous, I confess! I will not give my heart away so freely. However, I know that one of my close friends is considering matrimony, and given that he is an amiable gentleman, and Miss Whitford an amiable young lady, I had wondered if the two of them might be aligned.”
“I see.” With a great swell of relief rising in her chest, Elizabeth smiled back at him, seeing the light in his eyes, and finding herself laughing softly. “You have plans to matchmake then, my Lord?”
“It seems as though I do.” Lord Winterbrook answered but immediately winced. “I fear, however, that I may not be much good at it. If this does not work, then I shall be entirely unsure as to which gentlemen to introduce her to! Some might dismiss her without so much as a brief consideration and I do not want her to be injured.”
How very kind he is.
“I can aid you in your plans.” Elizabeth smiled softly when he looked at her. “Perhaps you do not need my aid but if I can encourage her in the direction of whichever friend this is, then I will be glad to do so.” She squeezed his arm lightly. “Provided he is a gentleman of good standing, of course.”
“He is certainly not a scoundrel!” Lord Winterbrook exclaimed with a broad smile. “It is my dear friend, Lord Bramwell. I think that he would be more than suitable for Miss Whitford and, if you would be willing to help me in this matter, I would be very appreciative.”
Her heart lifted and she moved just a fraction closer, their steps slowing as they continued their walk through the park.
“I would be happy to,” she answered firmly. “It will not be particularly difficult to speak well of Lord Bramwell, for I am acquainted with him. I assume that you also will encourage Lord Bramwell to consider Miss Whitford?”
“Certainly, I shall.” Lord Winterbrook smiled, only for it to fade a little as he looked at her again, tilting his head just a fraction. “But is there not a slight concern that you might then take attention away from your own situation?” Speaking a good deal more quietly now, he frowned. “I would not want you to focus all of your attentions on Miss Whitford, without allowingyourselfsome consideration. Is it not the case that most young ladies seek a match while they are in London?”
“And I am no exception,” Elizabeth answered with honesty. “This is my third Season, but I confess I have made something of a promise to myself, something my friends and I have all shared together.”
Lord Winterbrook said nothing, but simply looked at her. Elizabeth’s face warmed, and she was aware that she had spoken rather freely. It seemed that he waited for her to say more, and, wondering whether or not she ought to express the situation to him, she shrugged inwardly, and then decided to be nothing but truthful. After all, if they were to strike up a closer acquaintance than they had at present, it would be best for him to understand precisely what she was seeking.
“My friends and I have always promised that we should never marry gentlemen who did not truly love us.” Speaking slowly and carefully, Elizabeth made certain that her words were chosen with great distinction. “And whom we did not come to care for also. My friends – all bar one besides myself – have thus far found themselves successful in love, and I hope that I will soon be as they are.”
Lord Winterbrook remained quiet for some moments. The heat of the sun blazed onto them, and Elizabeth’s cheeks grew hotter still. She turned her head to the left, looking out across the park rather than paying any attention toward Lord Winterbrook, a little embarrassed that he had said nothing, and wondering at his reaction.
“And what if you should not find such a gentleman?”
His quiet question had her looking back at him.
“Then I shall not wed,” she declared firmly. “I am all too aware that it is meant to be the sole delight and cause of every young woman in London to be married, but I confess that I find the idea of marrying simply for the sake of a good match to be most disagreeable. A gentleman may claim to be kind and genteel, but upon marriage become the entire opposite, revealing his true self. No, I wish to marry a fellow who loves me and who makes such a love plain. That way I can go into our marriage secure in his affections, and he secure in mine.”
“Your determination is extraordinary.” Lord Winterbrook took a deep breath and then let it out again with a slowness that pulled his brows low and tightened his jaw. “I hope that you have success, Lady Elizabeth.”
“I thank you.”
Nothing more was said of this, for Lord Winterbrook then began to talk of something else – the upcoming ball at Almack’s - but Elizabeth struggled to concentrate. He had not said anything about his own feelings, had only offered her the hope that she would find what she wished for. Did that mean that he was entirely averse to such an idea? Would he have no desire to ask her to walk in the park or to take tea with him again? Her heart ached a little as she wondered if this was to be the last time she would be so in his company. Had she ruined their close acquaintance already, simply by telling him the truth? And why was the thought causing her heart so much pain?
Chapter Eight
“And are we to make forthiscarriage?”
Felix looked across at his men. These last few days, they had appeared increasingly disgruntled – although he could not understand why. He paid them the same as they had agreed, which meant that they must be displeased with his decision to no longer steal from those he stopped. Instead of choosing the very best of carriages to attack, he had chosen carriages that appeared a little less than grand. More often than not, Felix had found occupants within who were on their way to London for some reasonotherthan to simply enjoy the Season. The men he had hired were dismayed that he had chosen to behave in such a fashion, although he found himself caring very little. After all, if he paid them what he promised - which he always did – then what should it matter what he did?
“If you do not wish to ride with me, then you need not do so.” With a shrug, he turned back. “I am going to be doing whatever I think is best. Your assistance is required to stop the carriage but if you disagree with anything that I do, then you may turn around and return to London. I will find someone else to replace you.”
Pushing his horse forward, his ears caught the murmurs and grumbles behind him, but Felix ignored it. If they continued, he was more than inclined to find someone else - perhapsthreenew riders – to join him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the carriage, nodding slowly to himself.
“Yes, I think we should take this one.”
